The Itch
by stmpunklizzie
Summary: Tarrant has an Itch only one other can scratch...or death may find him swiftly. M implied until chapter 5...then full blown M. Complete with 7 chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Ok...the Obsession...yes Capitalized...has taken full force now. **

Title: The Itch

Chapter: 1/?

Rating: M for later on. Only implied now.

Peoples: Alice/Tarrant. Other AIW2010 characters may appear. Not my fault.

Summary: Tarrant has and Itch only one other can scratch...or death may find him swiftly.

His clan had called it 'The Itch'. With capitalization even. Not particularly creative for such a marvelous group of people he used to call family but perhaps the name was so simple because the condition was so severe. It was random, a full blown case could come on in a second of time or it could slowly grow and eventually everyone caught it.

It had entered his mind, when he dared think on the matter for more than a few seconds at a time, that being the last of his clan may pose problems. If the Itch happened to take him inappropriately, there would be none to advise him. And if the Itch could not be properly…scratched, what then? He doubted that anyone else in Underland knew of the horrid things the Itch could make you do, it seemed to be something the Hightopp clan had suffered from alone.

It was on the night before the Frabjous day that he had felt it for the first time. Although he had dismissed the idea of it being The Itch. It couldn't be. Simply nervousness for the small woman at his side, lit by the moonlight – nae – glowing in it. Her blond hair looked so soft. All he wanted to do was touch it. Well, maybe stroke it. Well, maybe twist some around his fingers and play with it, lift it to his nose to smell the sweet…but he resisted because it was her. And he was him.

On Frabjous day he had felt the stirring of The Itch again but dismissed it as a twitch of battle anticipation. Surely everyone was as tightly wound as McTwisps pocket watch. The Itch had spurred him on, fighting brave and fierce. And it had seemed to completely disappear as she lifted the bottle to her lips, making her choice to leave Underland…to leave him.

Three days after her departure, it found him again. And it was certainly odd because the moment he felt the tingle in his fingers he had looked around, anticipating the head of golden hair to be moving toward him, her eyes, her lips…but she hadn't returned. Only the Itch had. And it was there to stay.

It grew, making his skin creep and crawl with itches he could never scratch. Starting on his fingertips, bandaged and discolored as they were, small sensations that made him want to touch. Everything. The rough old velvet on his jacket was extremely pleasurable; it itched the tips of his fingers satisfactorily and didn't try to stab him to death as Maly had after he stroked her tail experimentally. The texture of the tail had looked the right combination of rough and soft to work, how was he to know she would react that way? See if he would try to help her should she need to itch a scratch…nonono…scratch an itch. But as it spread up his fingers, causing them to twitch more than ever, and slowly slither up his arms, he began to worry that there would be nothing to quell the bothersome feeling. Well, nothing he would admit to. For to admit that there was a problem meant there needed to be a solution somewhere but he didn't need a solution because there was not a problem.

As days turned to weeks, weeks to months, he became more irritable with his friends. They didn't understand how severe the itch had become and he refused to address the reason why it was there in the first place. All they wanted to do was return to their previous joys. The rightful Queen held the throne and life was generally most pleasant for the inhabitants of Underland. Yet the tea tasted different…

"HATTER!" Malymkin had shouted his name three times before he slowly released March. Were they talking about something? All he could remember was the taste of the tea, bitter and horrid. The mad hare trembled slightly as he waited for his friends fingers to loosen enough for his arms to wiggle free. It had been a bad temper tantrum that had come from nowhere. He may have been mad but usually his friends could tell _somewhat _when the spells were coming on.

Tarrant stood quietly, waiting for his eyes to focus again. The itch never left now, running over his legs, up and down his arms, curling around his neck and down his spine. It was enough to drive anyone mad, and since he had already been halfway there…

"Hatter?" Maly's voice was softer, closer, "You need to go and see the Queen…"

"DOUN WIT THE BLODDY BIG HEED!" he shouted suddenly, turning on Mally with red in his eyes.

"NO! HATTER!" Maly shrunk into a tight ball, yelling upwards into the madness that had overcome her friend. "THE WHITE QUEEN! OUR QUEEN! MIRANA!"

Tarrant stood slowly, breathing deep, trying to repress the rage that had burst forth. The White Queen. Capitalized. Looking down, he saw Maly still in a protective scrunch and tears came to his eyes. Maybe Mirana would know a cure, some other way out of this madness.

"Yes…yes…" Tarrant sighed, worn out from the constant battle of his emotions and that constant _itch_. "I will go Maly. I am sorry I waited so long."


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks to all of the reviewers, and the corrections on Mallymkun's name. I had been looking around the net and saw a few articles where the reviewers had spelled Mally's name differently. Thinking I was wrong, I changed it in chapter 1 before posting it here...and didn't do my own research to see that I was spelling it right...and they are wrong...although on the official Disney site it doesn't state the name nor does it on IMDB so we could all be correct grammatically and phonically and Underlandly and now that we have all had our lesson in using more than one source when doing your research let's get on with it shall we?

Chapter 2

He stood nervously in the throne room, the only occupant. His fingers turned the brim of his hat round and round, feeling out the bumps and imperfections that lay along the ridge. Although his eyes were cast down, they saw nothing that was in front of him. It had taken him a bit longer than usual to travel to Marmoreal, his journey coming to a complete stop at times while the itch took over. He would scratch at his arms, legs, torso and face until he thought he would burst from his skin, then suddenly, it would be gone. Of course the sensation would cause a fit of rage to enter him, yelling out to the trees and flowers. There was a particular patch of daisy's that would need his apologies when he returned home. Apologies all around, he admitted. To the daisy patch, Mally and March, to Queen Mirana seeing as she needed to be awakened because of the hour of his arrival.

Sighing, Tarrant walked forward a few steps and lifted his eyes to the armor that sat off to the right of the throne. It had been shined so carefully after the previous wearer had departed. It was a shame, really. Wouldn't it have been more fitting to keep the dried Jabberwocky blood on it, to keep the scuff marks from where the champion had been thrown., to keep the dents and bangs and sweat and warmth…he reached out a hand and touched the cool metal at the neckline, having strayed over to the display while lost in thought. The Itch was teasing him, his toes curled inside his shoes, trying to escape the discomfort; and it rose though his legs and thighs, curled in his belly and wound around his heart. Yet where he touched the metal armor he felt relief. Laying his whole hand on the chest plate delivered delicious results as the Itch retreated further. Glancing around to see if he was still alone, Tarrant giggled in mad delight as he stepped closer and pressed himself against the armor; his cheek to the shoulder, chest to chest, arms wrapped around _her_ waist, hips moving against _her_ hips…he groaned as the itchiness almost dissipated completely.

"Alice…" he whispered to the armor, his imagination now running amuck as he could see her smiling down at him, the long blond curls tickling his face as he breathed in her sent. His eyes start to shift between colors as his hips moved against the metal plating. "Why 'ave you not returned to me lass…"

"Because she had business to finish." Mirana spoke calmly from behind him. "You know that no power could have kept her here whilst ties held her so strongly." Instantly, Tarrant froze and disengaged himself from the cold metal. Tears welled in his eyes as the Itch returned and he realized that it had just been his mad mind playing tricks. No Alice.

Worried, Mirana slowly moved toward her Hatter with grace and caution. Of course seeing him pawing at Alice's armor had been…well, more than a bit disturbing…

"You have been suffering Tarrant." She smiled sadly at him, although his eyes were on the ground.

"Yes, and making those around me suffer too. My Queen…I do not know what to do." He turned a deeper shade of red as he glanced at the armor. "I am most embarrassed that you witnessed that last indecent…indescribable…incorrigible…incurable…irredema..."

"Hatter" Mirana moved one hand toward his shoulder as a comfort but withdrew as she saw him twitch away from her touch.

"…itch…sorry, I'm fine."

"Far from fine I should think. Do you know what you are experiencing?"

"My clan…perhaps I should not admit to it. It cannot…there is no…because of that witch of a sister you have." He trembled with rage, trying to contain it, not wanting to lash out as his Queen. But the Itch was never worried about rank or protocol. "Bloddy Big HEED! She took it all! ALL OF THEM!" screaming now, his thick accent muddying up the words in his mouth, tears flowed down his face as he reared on Mirana. "An YOU! YOU wit your vow! Ne'r to hurt a livn thing! BUT WHA SHE DEED WAS ALLOWED!"

Before Tarrant knew what was happening, he was on the ground, being pressed down by two of the Queens guards. He lashed out at them with the only thing he could, swearing at them in Underlandish. Mirana could hear the echoes of his words as he was being dragged down the halls toward a safe room for him to reside while he was in such a state. She hadn't known it would get this bad, sure she had thought, perhaps, the Itch would bother him at some point but…

Pulling her from her guilt and daze, a blue blur flew past her face and she swatted at it.

"Is that anyway to treat an old friend?" A slow low voice chided her.

"Forgive me, Absalom. My mind was elsewhere." Her gaze was still transfixed on the door her guards had dragged her Hatter through.

"Is it time, my queen?" Absalom spoke quietly

"Yes. I believe it is."


	3. Chapter 3

I know I know. This is a short chapter. There is no M-scenes yet. Yes I meant to capitalize M. LOL. Soon. Like. Um. Chapter 5. Yea. That sounds about right. Chapter 5. *Sigh* Don't you HATE it when the plot bunnies start taking over?? Thanks to the reviewers. Glad you are finding this to be a good story!

Chapter 3

The ship had just been loaded with a shipment to be taken back to England. Trade had been good, the company practically ran itself. Yet she travelled with Wonder, the main ship of the fleet, wanting to keep busy, occupied. The moment she ever set foot on English soil, her heart ached for a different adventure. One that no ship would ever fulfill. Yet there was always a new venture to be tried, loose threads to be tied up, business to tend to so she travelled and pushed the different adventure aside. It helped when Absalom would come to visit. Not that she understood him in his new form. But his simple presence would clear her mind and allow her to keep moving forward.

Yet, it had been three months since his last visit. And now, on this damned ship full of tea – TEA no less! – she was going slightly…well…mad. The smell was everywhere. Sweet tea full of citrus. Distinct Earl Gray. Fresh and earthy green tea. All bound for England and the market there. But the memories the aroma stirred in her brain was for Underland. For her friends there. The Queen. Chess. Hatter…

Sighing, she absentmindedly began scratching at her elbow. It wasn't until a raw pain was felt did she stop, shaking her head as she walked over to the looking glass in her dressing room. The skin there was red and angry, tender to the touch. Yesterday it had been her right wrist, the day before her left ankle. She had inquired after a pest problem with the captain, but no others had an itch as she did.

"Perhaps something in the tea…the fine tea dust in the air..." she mumbled to her reflection as she began to scratch lightly along her collarbone.

"It's not the tea, stupid girl."

Alice spun around, gasping as her eyes landed on a blue butterfly sitting on her writing desk.

"Absalom?"

"Do you know any other blue butterflies silly enough to talk to you?" his low voice sounded bored and irritated but Alice ignored it. Smiling she walked to the desk and sat, leaning in close to her guest from Underland.

"Why have I not been able to hear you before?" she asked as politely as she could, remembering the small creatures outbursts in the past at her stupidity. Alice continued to itch her collarbone, waiting for his reply.

"There was no need to talk before."

"And there is now?"

"Obviously!" Absalom shouted, his blue color sparking brightly with his anger. Alice sat back, dropping her hands to her lap.

"You have been summoned." Absalom continued at a slightly calmer cantor. "You must return to Underland."

"But, there are things…here…I'm not finished…" Alice took to scratching her neck as she spoke, mentally trying to list the reasons why she should stay. Her mother…her mother was doing fine in London, society having welcomed her into it's folds. Her sister…her sister was just fine with a now matured Lowell and a baby boy to look after. The company, of course. She needed to stay so that…so that…

"You have come to the end here, silly girl. No one enjoys admitting it, but this world will continue on without you. There are some in Underland though, who will not be able to carry on without your immediate arrival." At this, Alice stopped her fingers from rubbing against her neck and she focused her attention to the small creature before her.

"Is everything alright? Everyone?"

"What did I just say! Pay Attention! Why Underland should need _you_ is beyond…" Absalom muttered as he lifted himself into the air and began to drift toward the window. Alice stood, watching him go with confusion. Should she follow? Was she to return to Underland only once she had returned to England?

"But how?" Alice spoke loudly just as Absalom reached the open porthole. He turned and sped close to Alice's face, his wings sparking with blue electricity.

"WHY THE LOOKING GLASS OF COURSE!"


	4. Chapter 4

Tehehee...glad everyone is liking this! Just a warning though, the next few chapters jump into the smutty deep end. I know I rated the story M but just like to give decent prep time for those who may want to jump ship before things take a turn...for the better in some opinions :)

Inubaki: Here you are, hope the bacon and egg sandwich is good! :) Mmmm...bacon and eggs...You can have that at 10pm right??

Kurogawa Yumi: Yes, it will get itched soon...next chapter soon in fact :)

To everyone else...here you are....

Chapter 4

Alice just stood, looking at the now empty porthole where a blue butterfly had just disappeared. She giggled and brought her hand to her lips to keep the madness inside. That hadn't just happened…she had been working too hard…work…she needed to get back to…what was she doing before Absalom had spoken to her? Thinking about Underland of course…and her elbow…

Alice walked to the mirror slowly, her legs feeling heavy, weighted to the floor of the ship. Lifting her elbow she could still see the remnants of her scratches.

_Absalom had said it wasn't the tea… _

In her joy of actually seeing him she had forgotten to ask him how he knew. Forgotten to ask him what it actually was. And she hadn't gotten an answer from him…if everything was alright, everyone…the Hatter specifically. He had been in so many of her dreams lately. Dreams both happy and sad, innocent and far to explicit. The mirror seemed to ripple as she stood before it, shaking Alice from her thoughts.

"Well," she said to her reflection, "if I truly am done here…"

Turning away for only a few moments, Alice packed a few personal items, a favorite dress and the empty vial she had kept which once contained the prize of a champion. Upon scribbling three quick letters, one to her mother and sister, one to Lord Ascot and one to the Captain of The Wonder, Alice found herself completely ready to step though the looking glass. No regrets. The only regret she had truly ever had in her life was leaving those green eyes behind…shaking her head clear and resisting the itch that had risen all over her back, Alice returned to the present task at hand.

"Curiouser and Curiouser." She mumbled, her foot disappearing into the mirror as she stepped through.

Hatter was in no mood for visitors. He was in no mood for himself, truth be told. He had come to Mirana for help and all she did was lock him up! In a very nice room, of course. He would have had the bed canopy done up in a pale blue to suit the marble in the floor and the white curtains did nothing for the woodwork that lay behind…_oh for Absaloms sake!_

He _had_ gone mad.

The Itch was content to just make his skin crawl at the moment, not enough for him to skin himself alive but enough to remind him it was still there. Mirana had tried giving him different potions and salves, and some did weaken the effects, but none solved his problem. It was unsolvable. And he had admitted there was a problem! Grasping at his hair, pacing back and forth, he tried to focus on anything other than his current state. But the only thing his addled brain wanted to focus on other than his Problem – capitalized now too?? – was his Alice. No, no, no.

Alice.

No possession could he claim, although he just about possessed the armor she had once worn. He blushed yet again at his actions in the throne room. It was a good thing Mirana was an understanding Queen. It was a good thing his Alice wasn't really in that armor at the time. It would have been miserable to let her see him in such a way. She would have cut all ties of friendship with him, he would have never seen her again. Not that he ever will. She left. Left HIM! That little…little…TART!

Tarrant's eyes turned dark as he threw a white porcelain vase containing some of the gooey salve Mirana had given him onto the wall, shattering it into shards. The rage that bubbled out made the Itch more severe and he began to scratch at himself all over, not caring that blood began to show on his fingertips and spot his clothing. He simply wanted it to stop! He would rather be dead than finish out his days like this! Slowly he looked for a longer piece of the shattered jar, his bandaged fingers sweeping the floor.

There it was.

One long piece, perfect shape and sharp. Easily able to get the Itch out of his skin, once and for all.

Alice stepped out of the mirror and onto perfectly trimmed grass. Looking around, she realized she was in the garden at Marmoreal. And there was a group of people moving towards her. People dressed in white from head to toe. In the middle of the group was Mirana herself. As they came closer, Alice bowed deeply to show her respect to the monarch but was lifted by fingers under her chin moments later.

"Alice," the Queen shook her finger at the startled young woman. "A Champion must bow to no one." Smiling, Mirana pulled her in for a quick hug. "So glad you decided to come my dear." She whispered as she pulled away. With a flick of her poised wrist, Mirana's attendants backed away quickly and soon the garden was theirs alone.

"Forgive my haste Alice, but there are some urgent concerns I must tell you of."

"Absalom said there were some residents in Underland that needed me?" Alice put on a sober face, preparing for bad news, but the confused look on Mirana's face was not what she had expected.

"Some residents? Well. One in particular. Did he not explain further?"

"I believe I upset him, your majesty." Alice looked down at her shoes, embarrassed that she may have missed some crucial information. She began to scratch her left palm in nervousness.

"Easy to do, dear. No worries. But the information you need to hear is somewhat delicate." Mirana watched Alice intensely, noting the scratching of her palm. "Please sit."

She guided Alice to a marble bench in the garden. Seeing the redness of Alice's skin where she currently fixated, Mirana reached over and covered the girl's hands with her own.

"How long has this itching been going on?"

"Itch?" Alice looked from the Queen to her hand and blushed, looking down again. "For about a week now." Mirana only shook her head knowingly so Alice continued. "Do you know the reason behind it? Does it have something to do with Underland?"

"I know a little and I believe it does, yes." Mirana took a deep breath and squeezed Alice's hands gently. "Do you remember anything of your first visit? When you were such a small girl?"

"Not much, bits and pieces."

"You met many of the same creatures who called you friend when you returned to become our champion. You met our dear Hatter then. Before the destruction of his clan."

Alice nodded, remembering the orange haze and the long walk they had taken, his retelling of the awful day and the way his voice changed, low and dangerous. She shivered and had the urge to itch her knee. It actually burned slightly and if she could only remove her hands from the Queens grasp…

"He had liked you even then, a small girl with so much muchness inside her. And when you returned, your experiences and time together released a…well, sort of a potion inside of our Hatter." Mirana released Alice's hands and looked into her champions face for some flicker of understanding. Although simply relived she was now able to itch her knee, Alice did her best to listen to the Queen's words and meanings.

"I feel I am explaining this all wrong. You see, a Queen must know her subjects better than they know themselves. Which means, I have tried to learn all of the customs and traditions of the various inhabitants of Underland. When there is a danger of the Hightopp clan numbers dwindling, a certain reaction begins. And it is triggered further when a clan member meets an eligible young lady of his liking..."

Alice looked at the Queen, confusion written over her features. _Why was the queen telling her this? And what was it really all about? Hightopp clan customs? Why did her knee itch so bad?_

Mirana shook her head as she watched Alice scratch her knee. Now was not the time to go into details. Placing a hand over the reddened knee, she tried again.

"Tarrant may have never began the mating cycle because his clan was wiped out, except, for some reason, you seem to have triggered the…the…hormone that has caused him to become…active…"

Alice froze as some of the words began to come together. _Mating Cycle? Hatter was in a mating cycle and…and it was her fault??_ Her eyes grew large as she looked at Mirana.

"How do you know? What has he…this is MY FAULT??"

"Now my dear," Mirana stood and began to pace slowly in front of her. "It is by no means anyone's fault. He has an Itch. Same as you," she paused, pointing toward Alice's knee, "only more severe. It is actually what his clan would call the mating cycle once it began. The Itch. Simply because that's what it feels like, so I have been told. I suppose it is there as a catalyst, so that there is always a new generation ready to take over, but if you should ignore the Itch...well it takes over the senses until you are so overcome…you try to take your life. You choose death over the sensation continuing any longer."

"Mate or die?" Alice laughed darkly. It sounded like home. Come a certain age, if a young woman wasn't married she committed social suicide. She knew it all too well. Mirana sat down beside her again and stroked her long blond curls.

"Yes. He has already tried to…" Alice gasped and shook her head but the Queen calmed her instantly. "We found him in time and he is healing as we speak, but I don't know how to reason with him anymore. He may be too far gone…"

"So. Hatter has some uncontrollable urge to…to mate." Alice took a deep breath. "But not with just anyone, with me. And it's not really even me. It's some survivor instinct that chose me as an eligible female in his brain. That I may have picked up while I was here?" Alice paused to reach for her ear and itched it a moment. "And if he doesn't…he'll kill himself?"

Mirana lowered her eyes, allowing the girl a few moments to think over the information. This was certainly the most odd task she had ever set upon as Queen. Unless you counted the time that Chess became stuck between those two…

"Where is he?" Mirana looked up from her thoughts and saw a new woman before her. Alice had made up her mind.

"I'll take you to him."


	5. Chapter 5

Teeheheee. You have been warned! :)

Chapter 5

Alice was innocent but not naive to the acts that happened between a man and woman. Her sister, in all of her properness, had deemed it necessary to educate her little sister once she had experienced the act of making love. Yet Alice was certain she had made some of it up, laying back and thinking of springtime while waiting for the act to be over didn't seem quite right.

Still, when Mirana left her outside of Tarrant's door, she filled her head with singing flowers and warm sunshine just so she would have something to reference should the need arise. During the extensive walk to where the Hatter was being kept, the Queen explained what she knew of the mating cycle. The longer someone would wait, the harsher the Itch became, the worse the process of drawing the Itch out. Alice had been reminded again and again that this wasn't the Hatter she knew, he was overcome with the basic desire to mate. Now if she could just keep her emotions out of the matter just as easily.

Honestly, in all of the dreams she had, in all of the fantasies and images of Tarrant, they all began with love. She was sure he was the only man for her. Travelling around her world reinforced the idea time and time again. More mad than she herself, he wore a kilt into battle for heaven's sake. Alice chuckled at the memory and then pushed it aside. But this wasn't love. He didn't love her. Some chemical in his brain was telling him that she was the one to mate with. Sadness swept over her and she reached for the knob, turning it slowly. Maybe once he was back to himself…maybe then they could talk of romance and love. Maybe then he would look at her as he had on the balcony in this very castle…in his workroom while he was captured by the Red Queen…on the battlefield at her side.

The room was dark but pale moonlight shone in through an open balcony door. Looking around cautiously, Alice slid into the room and closed the door behind her. Mirana had said there were spells she cast on the room so Tarrant couldn't cause harm to himself but she hadn't been sure how long they would last against his rage. The open door alarmed her slightly, could he have gotten out?

Not seeing him in the room from where she stood, Alice walked quickly to the balcony and walked out. The moon could have been the Cheshire's smile, it was so thin and widely curved. Giving only a small glow of light, Alice looked over the side but did not see any sign or remnants of one Mad Hatter.

He hated that anyone could come into the room yet he was unable to leave. He hated that he couldn't block out the moonlight because the curtains had been removed "lest he procure another method to end the Itch". If Mally had just stayed away, he would be rid of the cursed itch teasing him, but no. She chose the WORST time to check in on him. He hated the Queen's calmness over his manner. But above all else, he hated his imagination right now. He had actually imagined a very real Alice float across his room and onto the balcony. All he was doing was sitting in the empty, chilled cast iron tub that was in the unmentionable room off of his quarters, minding his own business, trying to think on tea trays and comfy chairs and there she was, flitting by him. He could feel the yellow seeping in around the outside edges of his eyes. He would teach his imagination a thing or two! Standing, climbing out of the tall tub, Tarrant quietly moved to the door frame and peeked around the corner. There she was, still a figment of course, but making him all itchy nonetheless. As she leaned over the balcony rail, her rather fine backside became the focus of his eyes and he moaned softly. His fingers itched to squeeze, his lips itched to taste, his hips itched to buck against her…but could he do that to something that was created by his own mind?

Alice screamed as she felt two strong hands grab her hips, pulling her backside against something very hard.

"Shhh, lass. Figments are no' suppose to scream."

Alice tried to turn around but he had her pinned between the marble rail and his own hardness. As his fingers dug into her hips and he moved against her, Alice almost lost all thoughts and had to bite her lip hard not to moan. Taking a deep breath she tried to speak…had he called her a figment?

"Tarrant…" her voice was shaky at best, and it had never been that low before. Taking in another breath, "Tarrant, I am not a figment of your mind."

"Sur you are, love" he chuckled deep and leaned in to place delicate kisses along her neck to her ear, his tongue darting out to trace the back edge of her lobe. "_The_ Alice would never have allowed this…"

One of his hands moved, scratching down her skirts to her thigh and back up to her waist, her ribs, her breast. Alice closed her eyes as he began kneading her breast through the layers of fabric she had on. Slowly, on the other side, an itch grew in the breast not being groped at the moment. Her eyes shot open as she fought the desire to bring his other hand up, making him match the ministrations of the first.

"Tarrant. I am very much here." Now a moan did escape as she felt him push against her from behind again. Another itch began on the insides of her legs. She certainly was NOT going to allow herself to itch there…for now.

Tired of his imaginary Alice claiming she was real, Tarrant growled as he spun her about making her face him. Her shocked face caused him to pause before he smirked and slammed his lips against hers. His imagination was good, he admitted, and he would just simply have to enjoy himself until she disappeared. Because for the first time in months there was no itch. Her gasp against his lips caused him to press harder, his tongue lashing out to run over the mouth he had captured. She opened hers readily and he plunged inside, the warm wet velvet of her tongue playing against his. He was so hard, so ready to simply take her here and now, figment or not. Reaching around behind her, he grabbed her and lifted her so she sat on the rail, and moved forward swiftly, giving this ghost of his lust no chance to close her legs.

It had all happened too fast. She was being pulled in too many directions. Stop. Don't. Please. More. Yes. No! As he lifted her up she was sure he would simply let her fall, his rage simply removing the source of his Itch. Perhaps her presence was setting all of his skin aflame as it had hers, for now she itched from head to toe. His tongue in her mouth had been a shock but a pleasant one, his wandering hands did little to extinguish the fact that she was just too uncomfortable in any clothing right now. It all rubbed against her and made the ache of the Itch all too unbearable. And now, to have him pressed against her so intimately, she pushed against his shoulders, trying to catch her breath.

"Tarrant" she moaned against his lips, _was he really going to throw her over?_ "Wait…I have to…breathe…"

Tarrant chuckled darkly, releasing her lips. They looked properly swollen and oh so wet.

"Ye are the best Alice my imagination 'as come up wit yet, love." He brushed her hair back off of her chest, exposing a modest neckline, only exposing the very beginning of the pale flesh that would lead to those creamy breasts he had dreamed of. "Ye need a moment to breathe? I shall simply 'ave to direct my mouth elsewhere." With that he leaned in, kissing along the line where fabric met flesh and allowed his rough fingers to slip inside. For surely every moment, every split second that he was not touching her, the Itch returned full force, causing his sight to blur with it's intensity. It was only when he allowed his mind to think only on her that it retreated again. His fingers slid from her shoulders down the neckline until meeting at the buttoned front. Then, quickly, he pulled away from the middle, ripping the dress down to her waist. His eyes drank in the site of her blushing chest, heaving with the breath the figment claimed to need.

Breathing was a luxury she would not receive it seemed. As he kissed and nipped against her skin, Alice gasped in a lungful of air greedily, all the while her fingers wrapped around his head into that unruly orange hair, her back arching to his touch. How her sister managed to think about spring during this was beyond her. All of her thoughts were of him, how to get him closer, if he would just kiss her…there yes and…there…making the itching leave that area but move further down until it all began pooling in her stomach. It was only when she heard the ripping of her dress did she snap out of the lusty haze for a moment. She sat, dumbstruck as Tarrant allowed his eyes to roam freely. Only her chemise covering her, and not well at that. _Is this why women wear corsets? Not to shape and mold but to tease one moment longer?_ Alice actually laughed quietly and raised her hand to the Hatters cheek, cupping it so his eyes met hers.

He was confused for a moment. The instant she raised her hand to his cheek, he thought it was really her. He wanted to believe it was her. But it wasn't. She would never return. It angered him that his imagination would be so cruel. Had he not always indulged his daydreams? Had he never drawn it in? Always allowing it to play freely? And this was his reward? An imaginary Alice that would tease him into believing…snarling he pushed her hand away and shoved her skirts up forcefully. The Itch wouldn't claim him again. He would show the figment that much. Quickly he released his throbbing cock and rubbed it in front of her, enjoying the widening of her eyes. His free hand sought out her center, only to find her panties in the way. He deftly moved both hands under and up, grabbing the thin fabric and shoving it down her legs.

Again his hand sought her soft fold and she allowed him access. She was too far gone. Perhaps even round the bend, but as soon as he removed her panties the Itch had moved straight to her core. There were no more thoughts of indecency and propriety. Just a need. An Itch. And it burned. When his fingers slid at her opening, Alice leaned back slightly, testing the balance that held her on the balcony. When she felt him move closer and press against her, she welcomed the feeling. His arms wrapped around her possessively and she moved into them, pressing herself against his body. Her arms grabbed at his shirt, holding onto his shoulders as he moved his mouth against her ear.

"This may hurt ye lass…" the sudden tenderness in his voice caused her to tremble and she kissed his neck in response, wrapping her legs around his hips tightly. He slid into her in one fluid motion and stilled, allowing her to adjust. She hadn't screamed out but only because she could not find her voice. The pain was sharp and tight but in some odd way sweet and warm too. The itch slowly crept back into her and she boldly tightened her legs around him as she traced his ear with her tongue.

"Move" she had whispered into his ear. Nodding, holding her tightly he thrust into her time and again. He was acutely aware of many things. Her warmth, both inside and out, felt so very real. _But she made no noise when he entered her..._the Itch was back but in an undeniably welcome way. He would release within the next few thrusts and the illusion would be gone…

She slid her hands to his back and scratched her nails across, hoping it would cause him to speed up, the Itch was so severe now...she needed him to continue…she was so close to something bursting from inside…so close…

Her nails against his skin caused him to buck harder and within a few seconds he yelled out her name, crying into the night as he spilled into her. Yet his voice wasn't the only one. Moments later he felt her grip him from within as she screamed out and clung to him tightly.

Time passed, both breathing hard, both clinging to each other. Tarrant's eyes were shut tight, not wanting her to disappear, not wanting this to be over. The Itch would claim him now and he would never know her real touch…

"Tarrant…" she whispered into his ear, stroking his damp hair.

"Alice?" he looked up at a very-much-still-there young woman, glistening in the moonlight. No no no…it was really her? He had just...? To _The_ Alice?


	6. Chapter 6

I have this thing with numbers – odd and prime are the best. 3 and 13 are favorites but 7 is a close second place…and I really don't like 5, for an odd and prime # it is very solid…so you will see with most of my fics that they have odd or prime # chapter amounts. Like this one…it's gonna have 7. Dunno if I have 13 in me…maybe in the future.

So thank you for taking that stroll through my weirdness. Enjoy.

Also, thanks to all the kind reviews. Glad everyone seems to be enjoying this!

Chapter 6

Tarrant blushed as he backed away from _The_ Alice, helping her down from the rail before turning and tucking himself back into his pants. _No, no, no…not like this…not now…_ he felt a soft touch on his shoulder and turned his head slightly to see her hand resting there, soft and warm. He didn't dare look into her eyes, not after what he had just done. How had he slipped so far that he didn't know his Alice? No.

Alice.

He still held no possession although the act that they had just completed may have…

"Hatter?" her voice sounded small, even to herself. She was terrified that he hated her more than ever, the look on his face when he realized what they had done. It was her fault to be sure, she should have tried harder to convince him that she was herself and not a figment.

"You should go, I'm not sure if it is over with and I would hate to have you…" Tarrant slipped away from her touch as he spoke, careful not to look at her. He turned to head back into the unmentionable room. The cast iron tub looked inviting once more.

He would hate to have her…again? Was that what he meant? Had it been that awful for him? Tears pricked their way into her eyes as she watched him hobble into the dark bathroom. She had given herself to him in waste?

Slowly he lifted one leg then the other into the tub and sat down. Only when secure in his tall tub did he glance in her direction. She was staring right at him with…tears in her eyes. Had he hurt her that badly? _Of course, you brute…you stole her virginity…_a voice very much like Absalom's entered his head and the Hatter looked about, expecting to see a blue butterfly fluttering near him.

"I'm so sorry Hatter." Alice spoke quietly before moving toward the door. If he didn't want her here, she would at least respect that wish. Tinged with pain, her movements felt odd as she walked forward. How long would it take her to physically heal? Mentally… that may be a bit longer.

His fingers twitched at her voice, her apology. She was sorry? His elbows itched suddenly and Tarrant shuddered as he realized it hadn't left him completely. The relief he had felt was only short lived. He would have to live through it all again, this time knowing the one thing that brought him relief couldn't be had. Ever again. He watched her limp toward his door and noticed the stain on her dress…on her legs…

"Alice…oh dear Alice…" he had sprung from the tub and was at her side, his own tears shining in his eyes. "Forgive me, I was so cruel and my mind, it was slipping, I thought you a specter, a figment…oh but you know that…what I called you as we…and I cared nothing for your own comfort! Please, Please just come and sit for a moment. There is some salve that Mirana sent me, it could help the…the pain I've caused…the discomfort…dilemma…dirty… damned…demon…demen…"

"Tarrent." Alice fell upon his frame, wracked with sobs. His voice stilled as his eyes faded to a light green and he held her gently as she cried. It was the least he could do, the monster that he was. Slowly he led her to the edge of his bed and left her there for just a moment. The new jar of balm had arrived in an unbreakable container only moments before Alice had arrived in his room. _The_ Alice. His Alice?

Without another word, he moved back to her and set the jar on the bed next to her small frame. She was trying, without much success, to hold together the torn dress. Yet another thing he had broken tonight. His fingers twitched, his palms itching to hold her. To comfort and ease. Trying to rid the thoughts that were creeping back into his mind, Tarrant left her once again to find a cloth that she could clean herself with.

The one thing she wanted most was his hands on her again, for him to hold her as firmly as he had out on the balcony because she felt herself coming apart at the seems. He was sorry for earlier to be sure, but sorry it had even happened? As he returned a second time with a wet cloth, she looked up at him with tear swollen eyes. Slowly she lifted her skirts, amazed at her own actions, not knowing where the boldness had come from yet feeling a small spiral winding itself in her middle, something itching at the back of her neck.

"I know it is a lot to ask but…could you help…"

"Of course!" his reply flew too quickly from his mouth, mustn't seem overly eager to touch her again, to see her lifting her skirts, her milky white legs…but the blood that he saw dried there brought him back to his senses quickly. She was asking for her _friend _to help her, not an itchy Hatter. He knelt, close enough to gently begin to wipe at her legs, running the cloth over her skin to erase the deed that did this to her. His hands worked slowly, moving up at a snails pace, making sure all spots of blood were removed before sliding up further. Once up to her thighs, he noticed that she had laid back slightly, her legs moving more and more apart. He could almost smell her wetness and shuddered as he physically drew himself away.

"Alice…perhaps you should…" he looked up into her deep eyes and saw them half closed, her mouth open slightly. Itching his arm absently, Hatter waited for her response.

"Please Tarrant…" his movements had caused the most painfully sweet twitches to occur in her legs. They ran up to her folds as he had moved further up. She suddenly didn't care about the soreness as it was replaced by something else. And she didn't want him to stop. But maybe he didn't want to continue…shouldn't she just politely take the rag and… "You would be able to see better than I would…if you wouldn't mind…"

Tarrant licked his lips as he waited a moment before resuming, giving her the chance to take back her request. When she looked into his deepening green eyes thought, there was no hesitation. He stopped itching his arm, for it had stopped itching truth be told, and resumed his journey into her skirts. Her legs spread wide, he felt himself begin to grow hard at smell of her. It was possibly the best smell his nose had ever encountered…better than the sweetest tea. He wondered if it would be the best taste too and without a second thought he closed the small distance and licked her folds.

Alice shot off of the bed as she felt Tarrant lick her most private spot. He sat back instantly and muttered a small apology, yet stayed where he was, his eyes gazing into her skirts, his fingers itching his neck. Blushing furiously, she slowly watched him itch and she felt a similar sensation…_if it is back he would need more help…she would be doing it for him…for his sanity…_all of her reasons fell into oblivion as she reached around behind herself and stood, unbuttoning the back of her skirt and letting it slide to the floor along with the torn top portion of her dress. She sat back down, lifting her chemise and leaning back again.

It was the best taste. And he wanted more. As she settled back down, now so little fabric covering her, Tarrant licked his lips and moved forward without her consent. His hands moved to her hips, pushing the thin chemise up further before placing his lips on her inner thigh. He felt her muscles twitch at his touch before he moved to lick her folds once again. And again. And again. She began to move against his mouth and his face became covered in her scent. His chin practically dripped with it, and still he wanted more. His hands moved to her lovely bottom and lifted her off of the bed, offering more room for his lips to kiss, his tongue to plunge, to slide in and out until he heard her panting and moaning his name.

"Tarrant…by the gods…don't stop…" Alice groaned wantonly, her hips grinding against his face with abandon. The itch was back inside her, tightening and lifting her higher. The soreness from before was completely forgotten as she felt him explore her most intimately. His fingers squeezed and molded her buttocks sliding in between and pressing against her in a most inappropriate way and if he continued to lick her there…right there…yes…

As she screamed out his name, a rush hit his mouth and he lapped at it greedily. Pulling her to him tightly as if his life depended on the very juices that flowed form her. And it did. He felt complete in ways he never knew possible, knowing that she was feeling such joy. Perhaps not all was lost and he would be able to call her His Alice still.

Able to breathe again, Alice slowly realized that Tarrant was cleaning her again, with the cloth, and then began to apply some of the balm he had said was from Mirana. Once finished, she reached out her hand for him to lay beside her. They moved until both were comfortable. Tarrant didn't speak for several minutes, or maybe it was hours…you never knew what kind of mood Time was in.

"Alice, why…what did Mirana tell you…" he lay next to her but was careful not to touch her. The crawling of the Itch beneath his skin was tolerable for the first time in days but he still didn't trust himself.

"She told me of your clan. She told me about how you needed to…well…it was either to mate or die…"

"So you came to me as our champion." He murmured to himself more than her. His head swimming with emotions he didn't want to share with her. "You came to save the day."

Alice turned on her side so she could see the Hatter's eyes. They were a muted green and looked almost mournful. So he did regret the evening?

"Yes. But as a friend too. Out of concern for you…" _and to cure my own itch. _She wanted to add, but held her tongue. _Did you know I have it too…_

As a friend. Out of concern. He didn't want to be pitied, his clan had been the proudest Hightopps in the land. He turned from her then, rolling onto his other side. Not wanting Alice to see his heart breaking or the effect she had on him being so very close.

As he shifted from her, Alice sighed. She must have said something wrong, but what? Boldly, not wanting to be without his touch, even if it was only for the night, Alice slid close to him, molding her form to his and resting her arm around his chest. He took her hand in his and pulled her tighter, loving the feel of her body against his. So very tired, he felt sleep begin to wash over him just before he heard his Alice whisper goodnight. All their worries washed away for now, it was simply the two of them in their own dream worlds.


	7. Chapter 7

Whew. This has been a great story. But I am unsure if this is a fitting ending. I have so many ideas waiting to bloom that I think I rushed it. Please let me know how _**fully**_ rubbish it is!

THANK YOU REVIEWERS! I know this last chapter didn't come as quickly as you may have wanted. But check out the end of the story for a little treat.

Chapter 7

(Just some fluff/angst/smallsmut/fluff)

Tarrant awoke with the sun bright on his face and he squinted, looking at the open windows. He had had the best dream. And for awhile he felt whole again. Maybe it was all over, he could go back to his tea table and move on, forgetting all the embarrassing moments and happenings. Perhaps even to make a Hat! A lovely hat with blue accents and soft cotton adorning the…

"Where ever are the curtains?" a soft, sleepy and decidedly feminine voice spoke from behind him, interrupting his thoughts.

_Perhaps it had just been a figment of his_…but no. The previous evening all came rushing back to him and he held as still as he could.

Alice.

_The_ Alice.

Pressed against him? _Yes_, his body confirmed. And they had…he had…slowly he felt light tickles along his chest and realized she was moving. Her fingers left delicious feelings along his side as she lifted her arm from his torso. Thank goodness he was still partially dressed or she would see how his entire being blushed at her simple touch. If she thought he was asleep, she may leave and he could just forget all that had…did he want her to leave? _No._ Yes? It was concern that had kept her there, he remembered that. Concern and friendship.

"Tarrant?" She spoke softly, not wanting to awaken him, but she had been sure he had moved and then froze as she removed her arm from his body. A wave of remembrance hit her as she recalled what he had said.

"_I'm not sure if it is over with and I would hate to have you…" _

"_I thought you a specter, a figment…"_

"_discomfort…dilemma…dirty… damned…demon…demen…"_

Doubt ran rampant in her mind. She had let her emotions in despite her best efforts and at some point in the evening had thought it possible that it wasn't just lust but love…maybe she should have left earlier. Maybe she should leave _now_.

He felt her rolling away from him and didn't try to stop her. After all he had done, she should be able to decide what she wanted next. Hearing the door to the unmentionable room close, Tarrant moved onto his back and looked up at the ceiling. All he wanted to do was hold her close. Whisper his undying love to her and that he would make up for all of his ungentlemanly actions last night. But she was just doing her duty as a Champion. Capitalized.

His legs itched. Not as badly as it had been, but still present. Maybe because he had slept in his pants. _Maybe_. If it hadn't been for his Alice, he may be dead at this moment. He knew he would have found some other way to end it all. Yet his Alice's moan, her hands on his skin, the way her legs wrapped around him and how wet she was when he had tasted her, all his…

Groaning, Tarrant reached down under the sheet and stroked his hardening cock through his trousers. His whole body hummed with ripples of a somewhat welcoming scratchiness.

Looking at herself in the mirror, Alice dried off the droplets of water that clung to her freshly cleaned face. The eyes that gazed back at her didn't look different yet she thought there would be some kind of change evident. She had given into lust and allowed Hatter to take control, perhaps only to ruin everything.

"_You were much muchier last time…you've lost your muchness."_

His voice echoed through her, bouncing off of her skin as she gripped the sinks edge. Had she, yet again, lost her muchness? Honestly, that damned itch, or whatever it was, had started when she had left. It was hidden in her brain and thought it was a longing for adventure, for escape from the conventions of normal life, but it had followed her back here. She hadn't given a second thought to Mirana's instructions, hadn't fought against Tarrant to try and reason with him, doubted her own feelings…all because she was being controlled by…

Turning her head toward the closed door, Alice paused. She had heard something just then. Warm and low, rough and…it was Tarrant. Quietly she moved toward the sound and whispered to the door, should it understand her, to be silent as it opened.

There, still in bed, was Hatter. Her heart beat a little faster as she watched the sheets move over his lower torso. His eyes were closed and his mouth open, his chest moving rapidly as his breath came in gulps. Alice closed the door quickly and pressed her back against it.

He had never sat up so quickly in bed and it made his head spin slightly. He had heard the door to the unmentionable room close, knowing she had seen him. Cursing in Outlandish, Tarrant stood and found it slightly difficult to walk, but he made his way to the door. Not knowing what to say, how to start the conversation, he remembered he had yet to answer her question.

"The curtains are gone because Mirana removed everything from the room that I could have used to harm myself with."

"You tried to harm yourself?" Alice opened the door slightly, looking out at Tarrant. His shirt was a wrinkled mess and his pants…well she would need to skip that part for now.

"Yes."

"But what could you have done with the curtains?" Alice's eyes went wide as her brain screamed the answer to the question. "No. You hear me? Never are you allowed to think that way again." She could eventually handle it if he didn't love her, if they couldn't be friends again, but there was no chance she would let him ever…

"I couldn't stand it anymore. I itched from head to toe. And the thoughts…the dreams…Horrible, horrifying, horrid," he caught himself and looked down at his feet, frowning. Alice opened the door completely and slowly lifted her hand to his chin. Tears threatened to spill down his cheeks as he allowed her to lift his head but still did not meet her gaze.

"Tarrant. Do you itch right now?" Alice quickly glanced to the bulge in his trousers and flitted back to his face, hoping he hadn't caught the movement.

He opened his mouth to answer _Yes _automatically but paused. His toes were fine, fingers twitchy but that was normal, his legs had itched earlier…no more like a scratch. His arms, his chest, his hair, his eyes and nose and mouth. He was still semi-hard and a bit uncomfortable. He still wanted her and longed to hear her moan his name again and again…but no itch.

"No" he answered honestly. "But it shouldn't have been you to save me. Mirana should not have asked you…last night was not what a champion should have to endure."

"You wanted someone else?" she asked, trying to make it a joke but failing. Tarrant shook his head 'no' quickly, his eyes wide as he looked at her finally.

"That's not why I came here Tarrant. I know I didn't have to do anything, but what would Underland be without it's Hatter?" he shook his head, looking away again.

"But…you are _The_ Alice and not my Alice, and yet I acted like…"

_I'm not your Alice?_ she moved her hand to his face, drawing her thumb across his cheekbone. He closed his eyes and breathed deep, his ramble stopping mid-sentence.

"Nae Lass…" Tarrant cleared his throat and stepped away from her touch. "You don't want to be doing that. Friends don't do that. Nor does concern. Nor Pity."

"What about love?" Alice spoke quietly, wondering if she had gone mad herself. But this may be her only chance to tell him, her muchness unwound itself inside her, waiting for his reaction.

Love? Love him? No. What could he offer her? She was an Alice and he was a Hatter and he had never even paused to think that she would, could, might, maybe love him. _Yet._ He dared a glance up into her face and saw a distinct glow about her eyes. A smile crept slowly across his lips. Muchness.

Stepping forward he wrapped his arms around her and leaned down to place a single gentle kiss on her lips. She didn't pull back, didn't cry out, just allowed him the kiss – and kissed him back.

"Love?" Alice smiled up at his simple question.

"Well, even if it's not, you probably don't want me too far away." Tarrant frowned as Alice continued to smile sweetly. "The way you tell it, I am the only one who can cure that itch should it return." He grinned, tightening his embrace.

"Naughty" He kissed her then, good and proper, before letting his hands move along her hips, gathering the sides of her chemise in his fists. He grew fully hard as she slid her tongue into his mouth and fought for space against his own, her hips moving against his. A twinge curled his toes and he chuckled, thankful that the Itch hadn't completely left. He would need plenty of excuses to keep her naked and in bed…or in the sitting chair of his living space…or in the kitchen while brewing tea…or out on the tea table…

"Hatter?" Alice asked as she pulled away for breath.

"Aye love?" He looked down at her with yellow tinged eyes.

"Could you scratch my itch?"

- Fin -

Ok. All righty. I have had several people scream their head off at me about that being it. Done. LOL _Sooo_ I wrote a separate one-off to help close things off a bit more...or carry them on...all depends on how you look at it I guess :) Check out "It Tickles" on my stories page :) And please review! I will Futterwaken for reviews. Vigorously.


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